


The Words In Between

by shaley8467



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Castiel Needs a Hug (Supernatural), Castiel is Not Okay (Supernatural), Human Castiel (Supernatural), Hurt/Comfort, Sad Castiel (Supernatural), Suicidal Castiel (Supernatural), Supportive Dean Winchester, Supportive Sam Winchester, he gets one
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-21
Updated: 2021-02-21
Packaged: 2021-03-18 21:06:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 5,029
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29615421
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shaley8467/pseuds/shaley8467
Summary: Castiel falls. The Winchesters pick him up.
Relationships: Castiel & Dean Winchester & Sam Winchester
Comments: 1
Kudos: 14





	1. Chapter 1

It had almost been six months since the Winchesters heard from Cas. Six months since they met for that angel case. Six very long months.

"Anything," Dean asked.

"No," Sam replied shortly.

Dean sighed. Sam had every right to be mad at him. He let an angel _posses_ him. Thankfully, with Crowleys help they were able to kick that sorry son of a bitch out.

And now Cas. Sam was also pissed about that. The night Gadreel left, Dean had told him everything. Every little detail. He'd been holding kicking Cas out over his head ever since.

_He's our best friend, Sam yelled, and you, what? Kicked him to the curb? When he was human? When he had nothing?_

Rubbing a hand down his face, Dean decided to push those memories back to their little corner. He already felt bad enough. And he should feel bad.

"What do we got again?"

Sam stopped typing and leaned back in his chair. "Well when we called his boss, she said "Steve" just disappeared. Didn't show up for work, no note, no call, nothing. And that was right after you told him he couldn't work on that case with us. So that leaves us with nothing."

"Do you-," Dean swallowed, "do you think he's dead?"

"I hope not."

One month later, Dean woke to a new voicemail on his phone.

_"Dean, it's Cas...Castiel. I don't know if you care, but I just wanted to let you know I'm okay. I hope you and Sam are well."_

Dean never ran faster. He barged in Sams room. His brother jumped five feet in the air followed by a string of swears.

He played the voicemail, and with tears shining in his eyes, he asked, "Can you track this?"

"Santa Fe, New Mexico. He called on a pay phone."

"Santa Fe," Dean repeated, unbelieving. They finally found him. They found their angel. "Well hurry up and pack, how far is it?"

"Ten hours?"

"Make it eight."


	2. 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They find him

They arrived in Santa Fe early the next day. The Winchesters first started out at the pay phone, but of course, Cas wasn't there.

Then they dressed up in their FBI threads and just went around asking business owners, locals, anyone who would listen, if they'd seen the man in the picture they showed. No luck.

"All right, so this obviously isn't working. We need to think like Cas," Sam reasoned.

"Think like Cas? The dudes a weirdo, I have no idea what goes on in his brain."

Sam shot his brother a bitch face, but continued anyways. "Let's just gather the places we think Cas would go. Or at least stop in."

Sitting in the motel, than ran over their list.

_All hospitals_

_Museum Hill_

_Animal Shelter and Humane Society_

_Downtown Subscription Cafe_

_Santa Fe Public Library_

Coming up with the small list was harder than they thought. Honestly, even though they'd known Cas for about six years, they had no idea what he liked. Or did in his free time.

The brothers split up. Dean would start on the hospitals and the museum, while Sam took the rest.

Not even 45 minutes into the search, Sams phone started ringing.

_"Yeah, he's definitely been here. Asked one of the nurses if she'd seen anyone like Cas, and she said yeah. Said he came in about 2 months ago. That's it though, keep looking Sammy."_

So far on Sams end, things had been a bust. The last place he had to go was the library. As disheartened as he was, he put on his best smile for the older women at the desk.

"Hi, I'm looking for this man. Have you seen him?"

Her eyes lit up behind her glasses. "Oh! Clarence, yes I've seen him," she paused and eyed Sam suspiciously, "and who are you?"

A spark of hope lit up in his chest. "His friend. I've been looking for him for a while. I missed him."

The women relaxed. "Actually, I think I saw him come in a couple hours ago. He usually hangs out in the back by the chairs."

"Thank you so much."

Sam did his best not to run through the whole library. He really did miss Cas. He walked as quick as he could to the back. And then he saw him.

He was sitting at a table, reading a book. Tears stung at the corners of Sams eyes. It was like seeing a ghost. He approached slowly.

"Cas," he whispered.

He whipped his head up, eyes wide. When he saw Sam, his mouth hung open and he stood up. "Sam?"

Sam launched at him, arms spread. He pulled Cas close and rested his chin on his head. Although is was hesitant, Cas returned the hug with the same ferocity.

"Oh my god, oh my god, Cas. We were so worried," Sam said as he pulled back, still keeping an arm on his shoulder.

Cas' brow furrowed, and his mouth was still partly open. "Wh-what?"

Sam just pulled him into another hug. "Please come home."


	3. 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They go home.

"I-what," Cas asked again, separating himself from Sam.

"Come home? We've missed you. It's been like seven months, man."

"I don't understand."

Sam took a moment to look at his best friend, upset by his confusion. He had heavier stubble than normal, and deep eye bags. His hair was a little longer, and it was obvious that he'd lost weight. Honestly, Sams surprised he even recognized Cas. He'd only since him wear something other than the trench coat once.

Now, he was wearing light gray baggy cargo pants with a shoelace as a belt. On the top he had a simple black hoodie that was fading in some parts.

"Me and Dean, we've been trying to find you. And now that we have, do you want to come back to this bunker with us?"

Sam didn't like how on-edge Cas looked.

"Dean? Come...come back? I..."

He took Cas by the shoulder again. "Why don't we head back to our motel and talk there?"

The ex-angel nodded numbly, picking up a backpack on the floor that Sam hadn't noticed. As they walked outside, Sam tried his best to ignore that Cas was limping on his right leg.

While Cas got settled in the rental car, Sam gave a quick text to Dean.

S: _Found Cas. Heading back to the motel with him._

D: _What? Is he okay? What did he say?_

S: _Not much. He's fine, just a little different._

D: _okay, meet you there._

On the way back, Castiel was relatively quiet. He always was a quiet guy, but Sam had a bad feeling.

Once at the motel, Cas sat at the little table off the left off the door. Sam sat across from him, still processing that they had actually found him.

"Deans on his way here."

Cas nodded, his face staying carefully blank. Sam didn't want to start actually talking without his brother.

Dean unlocked the door loudly, neither of them noticing how Cas jumped.

"Cas! Man it's good to see you."

He put down a bag of takeout and sat next to Sam. "Dig in."

Castiel eyed the bag, but didn't reach for it. "I don't understand," he repeated.

"What don't you understand," asked Dean.

"You want me to come back?"

"Yeah man, didn't Sam say?"

"He did."

"So what's there not to understand?"

"Why?"

Sam and Dean glanced at each other. "Why what," Sam asked carefully.

"Why do you want me to come back?"

Sams mouth twitched, and he fiddled with his hands. "Cas, your our best friend. Our family. We missed you."

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't of kicked you out. There's a whole story behind that, but still, it was a shitty thing to do," Dean said.

Impossibly, Cas looked more confused, his eyes darting from Sam to Dean.

"So do you wanna come back," Dean asked nervously.

For a moment, Dean thought he was going to say no. That he wasn't forgiven, and he wouldn't go home with them. And Deans heart almost shattered.

But then, Cas started nodding. "Yes. Yes I think I would like that. When do we leave?"

Sam smiled, and Dean let out a huff of laughter. "Whenever you're ready."

Cas quickly explained a few places he had to go, and then he could leave. Just like that.

As soon as he stood up, he winced, and shifted his weight from his right foot to left.

"Dude, what's wrong with your leg," Dean asked.

"Oh, nothing," he said quickly. The older Winchester narrowed his eyes at him.

"Cas," he warned.

"It's nothing. I hurt it a while ago. There's nothing you can do about it."

And with that, the conversation was over. Sam looked at Dean wearily. Something was _wrong._

It only took them two hours for Cas to tie up his business.

"All right, where's your place so we can pick up your stuff."

"That's not necessary," he said as he stared out the window.

"What," Dean asked.

"I don't have a lot of things. I didn't really think I'd be staying too long. Everything I need is in this bag."

They got back to the bunker in the middle of the night. Cas trailed behind the brothers as they entered the bunker. Dean had explained the whole story on the way back. It almost infuriated Sam how quick Cas was to forgive.

Even though he was wiped out, Dean showed Cas his room. He walked in slowly, kind of hunching in on himself. Then he turned around and finally, _finally_ showed some emotion on his face.

"Thank you."

Dean patted his back and smiled. "Get some sleep, Cas."


	4. 4

Sam was surprised to see Cas sitting at the kitchen table the next morning. He was sipping a mug of coffee, still in his hoodie and cargo pants.

"Morning, Cas."

Sam huffed when all he got in return was a glance. Okay, Cas was not a morning person, which was actually not what Sam was expecting.

"It's early," Sam said needlessly.

"Mmm."

"You could still probably grab a couple hours. Dean won't be up until at least 9."

"I'm okay," he said tiredly.

"Well...okay, if you need anything, let me know."

Sam turned to leave, when suddenly Cas was pulling on his arm. He nearly yelped because of how silently he moved.

"Actually, I do need something."

The younger Winchester eyed Cas' grip on his forearm. "Um, okay. What?"

He finally let go, and sighed. "I seemed to have forgotten my clothes in Santa Fe. I wasn't thinking when I just took my bag."

"Oh, we can take a trip down there again."

Sam didn't miss how his eyes widened a fraction. "Thats okay," he swallowed, "I just need someone to take me to the store. If that's okay."

He patted Cas' shoulder. "Course, man. I can take you after my run."

Dean woke up at 9:13. He was pretty excited to have Cas in the bunker. He'd barely seen the guy all year.

He found him in the library, facing away from the entrance. Cas was bending his bad leg back and forth, and had a white-knuckled grip on the back of a chair.

"You alright there," Dean asked.

The poor guy practically fell over, but he quickly recovered and stood rim-rod straight. "Yes."

Dean sat across from him with a cup of coffee. "What happened, anyways," he said as he took a sip.

"I told you."

"Uh, no? You didn't? 'I injured it a while ago.' That's not telling anything."

Cas shrugged, and sat down, too. "Angels."

"Oh."

More guilt seeped into Deans ego. If he had just been there, that probably would've been avoidable.

"That why you were in the hospital a couple months ago?"

Cas choked, and started coughing. Deans eyebrows shot up. Okay, a definite story there.

"Yes," he said after he recovered. It was an obvious lie, but he wasn't going call him out on it. Yet.

"Right. Where's Sam?"

"Right here," Sam said as he strolled in, covered in sweat.

"Dude, gross. Go shower."

"I was _going_ to. Cas, can you wait a little longer? Or Dean can take you?"

"Take him for what?"

"Clothes."

Dean stared at Cas for a second. "Dumb ass, I asked if you needed to get things from your place. How do you forget clothes?"

When Cas simply shrugged, Dean added, "yeah, I'll take you."

In the store, Cas was constantly on guard. Sure, Dean understood, but this was a whole different level. His eyes never stayed in one spot, and he looked ready to fight anyone who came close.

He was so distracted with the people around him, Dean ended up picking the majority of his clothes. Mostly sweaters (Cas didn't seem like a flannel guy) and jeans, some comfy clothes too.

In the car, Cas didn't relax. Instead, he seemed more tense.

"So, um, how you doing?"

"Fine."

"I just mean, it's been a while, man. What you been up to? What happened to the Gas 'N Slip."

Dean realized this was not the time to have this conversation, but he couldn't help himself.

"After the Rit Zein, it wasn't safe to stay there. I was mostly just trying to stay under the radar."

"I gotta say, man," he huffed, "you do a pretty good job of that."

A haunted expression quickly flashed on Cas' face. "Not good enough," he mumbled.

Dean swallowed, and turned his attention back to the road.

After getting Cas really settled in the bunker, they hung out a little. It was nearing 11 when both Sam and Dean turned in for the night. Cas insisted that he wasn't tired, and would like to look at some of the books in Latin and Enochian. Sam was unbearably excited to hear that his friend still knew most languages.

Sam gasped awake after a particularly bad nightmare. A glance at his clock told him it was 3:30. He sighed and got up to make himself some tea. That was the easiest remedy to the anxieties plaguing him afterwards.

Again, he was surprised to see Cas sitting at the kitchen table holding coffee. Books and papers took up half of the space, but Cas wasn't working on them. In fact, he was just staring at the wall.

Sam cleared his throat. He didn't move. "Cas," he whispered, slowly approaching. He called his name a couple more times. It was pretty obvious Cas was completely zoned out.

He snapped his fingers in front of his nose, and Cas slowly blinked himself back into the present.

"Hey."

"Sam," he replied, almost sounding relieved.

"You okay," he asked hesitantly.

"Yes. Why are you awake. Go to sleep."

"Just came out to grab some tea. You should sleep, too, but I'm guessing that'll be a little difficult," Sam said, gesturing at the cup in his hands.

In response, Cas just took another drink. "What did you dream about?"

Sam inhaled sharply. "Nothing good," he joked.

"Mm. It's humorous how cruel our own minds can be."

"Is that why you're not sleeping?"

Cas shrugged, "part of it."

They sat in silence for a while. Sam wanted to keep Cas company, it seemed like he was hurting. Then he yawned.

"Go back to bed, Sam," Cas said softly.

A spike of fear hit his heart. Cas seemed to notice when he was suddenly in front of Sam, offering a hand.

He took it, and Cas led him back to his bedroom. The complete gentleness of his friends actions calmed him.

"Goodnight, Sam."

"Night, Cas."

No nightmares infected his sleep for the rest of that night.


	5. 5

Two days later, Sam and Dean found themselves sitting alone at the map table.

"Cas is... _good_ ," Dean said randomly.

Sam coughed. "What do you mean," he choked out.

Dean shot him a glare. "No, I mean. He just...I dunno. He's very easy to talk to. Different from when he was an angel. I mean last night, I talked to him about Hell. I don't talk to people about Hell. And then he just tucked me in like a friggin five year old. And I _let him._ "

Sam raised his eyebrows. He knew his brother never, like literally never talked about his feelings. "Yeah. Yeah he did the same to me. Had a nightmare. He held my hand. Maybe that's just Cas. A calming aura."

Dean nodded in agreement. "It's kinda weird, having someone we can rely on. Speaking of the devil..."

Cas trudged in the war room, looking worse for wear. Holding a cup of coffee. Sam swore every time he saw him, he always had coffee.

"Dude what pissed in your cereal," Dean teased. Cas tilted his head, which made Dean blush for some reason.

He took a step toward, and tried to hide a wince. "You okay?"

Cas nodded and took a seat. "Your leg still bothering you," Dean asked casually.

"A little."

Dean scooted towards him. "Let's see it."

"Oh, um, that's not necessary," he said as he shifted uncomfortably.

"Cas, c'mon." He seemed to realized that he wouldn't win this argument, and slowly rolled his pant leg up.

Sam hissed in sympathy. Dean didn't even try to hide his emotions. "Cas, _what the fuck."_

His knee was swollen, and had a large scar.

Sam quickly went and grabbed some ice packs from the freezer. When he got back, Dean was slowly lifting Cas' leg onto a chair. His eyes were squeezed shut.

"Cas, what actually happened? You said angels, but what did they do to you," Sam asked gently.

He visibly paled. "Um. They wanted information. I didn't have any. They didn't believe me."

Sam and Dean glanced at each other. "When?"

"About five months ago."

"Five months," Dean snapped, "and it's still not healed? Never heard of a hospital?"

Cas glared at Dean. "It's not exactly cheap. And it's getting better. I'm fine."

With that, he got up and walked away the best he could, leaving Sam and Dean feeling guilty.

About five minutes later, he reemerged. He sighed and leaning against the chair. "I'm sorry, I know you were just trying to help. But really, I'm okay."

"Let us. Let us help you," Dean asked. Sam thought there might be a deeper meaning to that. They both knew Cas was struggling.

"I'm not sure what you can do."

"We can start with this," Sam said, holding up one of the ice packs.

They sat there, bantering for a while. Cas chimed in occasionally, but mostly remained his silent stupor.

Dean couldn't help noticing his deep eye bags. "So, Cas. How's the bunker? Everything you ever hoped for?"

He looked around the war room as he answered. "Yes...yes a definite upgrade from where I was last staying. Good water pressure."

"Where were you staying, by the way? You never said."

Cas stiffened slightly. "An apartment."

"How'd you get money for that? Another job?"

Sam could feel tension radiating off of Cas. He knew Dean wanted answers, but trying to push Cas into them was not how to do it.

Cas narrowed his eyes at Dean. "Yes," he said slowly. Before he could say anything else, Cas suddenly stood, knocking the ice pack to the floor. "It's feeling much better, thank you."

"Wait," Sam called. They were having such a good time. It almost felt normal. Then Cas stumbled, and had to grab onto the doorway to steady himself.

Sam and Dean were by his side in an instant. "Dammit Cas, your leg is fucked, just come and sit down," Dean grumbled.

Sam was worried how heavily Cas was breathing. He was fine two seconds ago. "What's going on?"

"It's-it's not my leg," he panted

"Then what is it?"

"My schedule."

Dean paused, utterly confused. Cas tried to start walking again, but he's knees buckled. The only reason why he didn't fall is because Sam hauled him back up.

The brothers glanced at each other as Cas' head lolled between them. They started taking him to his room.

"Your schedule? What the fuck does that mean?"

Cas fell on his bed, on his side. His eyes automatically slipped closed. "My schedule," he mumbled.

"What? You're not making any sense."

Cas didn't answer. He didn't move.

"I think he's out," Sam whispered.

"Great," Dean snapped at he stormed out of the room. Sam had to catch the door so it didn't slam. He knew Dean expressed his fear through anger, but it was starting to get on his nerves. If only his brother could actually use his words.

Sam quietly slipped a blanket over Cas' shoulder, and followed Dean out.


	6. 6

"What, you think he's sick?"

"I dunno, maybe, it's not like he's chatty Kathy," Dean snapped, "my schedule, Sam what does that mean?"

"I'm not sick," a groggily voice answered.

"Look who decided to show. And you sure as hell look sick."

It had been almost a day. A full day of Cas sleeping. Dean had been pacing up and down while Sam tried to reason with him for almost all hours of that day.

Cas ignored Dean, and made his way to the coffee pot. He stared at Cas, waiting for an explanation.

When he got none, he had to keep himself in check to make sure he didn't punch Cas. "So, you gonna tell us why you passed out?"

Cas glanced between Dean and Sam. "It's my schedule," he shrugged.

" _What does that mean_ ," Dean rushed out.

"For sleeping."

Before Dean could argue, Sam cut in with his stupid calm demeanor. "Can you tell us it?"

"Why?"

"Because I'm worried about you Cas," Sam said.

He sat down with his coffee, and sighed. "There's no need to be, but if it'll make you feel better, sure. I stay awake for three or four days, and then sleep for one."

Sure, Sam and Deans insomnia was bad, but it wasn't _that_ bad. And Cas said it like it was _okay_.

Sam swallowed, "You realize that's not normal. Right? That's really unhealthy, Cas."

"It's the only way that works for me," he said as he sipped his coffee.

"You look exhausted all the damn time, so it's obviously not working."

"Cas," Sam cut in, "We can think of some other things to try. Deans right, you have to be exhausted. That's why your body is giving up on you. Will you let us help you?"

Cas leaned back in his chair, looking somewhat defeated. "What would you have in mind?"

"Meditation? Certain teas? A routine? Sleeping pi-"

_"No,"_ Cas snapped, eyes wide. He caught himself, and took a deep breath. "No, I do not think pills would be wise."

Dean inspected Cas. His head was ducked low so he couldn't see his eyes. His blood went cold at his theory on why Cas was hell bent on not taking pills.

"Cas," he said numbly, "why were you in the hospital?"

He whipped his head up, and stared at Dean. Sam was casting confused glances between them, but didn't interrupt.

"If not for your leg, then why," he continued.

Cas' jaw was set tight, and he made no movement to answer.

"Cas," Dean begged.

He watched the tension drain out of his friends body, like it had given up. "What do you want me to say, Dean?"

That was admission enough. Deans throat suddenly closed up.

Sam took over from there. "You-you were in the, um, the hospital, for over-um, overdosing?"

Dean could tell that Sam was close to tears without looking at him.

Cas simply shrugged.

"On purpose?" Sams voice was barely a whisper.

He was suddenly on his feet, smashing the mug down on the table hard enough for it to shatter. "It doesn't _matter_. Don't you get that, it _doesn't matter._ "

They were stunned into silence. No one moved. No one breathed. Cas rubbed a hand down his face, and looked at the coffee spilling over the table.

He stepped back, and took a deep breath. "I'm sorry," he said with a pained smile, "that was an overreaction."

He quickly walked away and the brothers could hear his door slamming from the kitchen.

Sam slowly turned to face Dean, mouth hanging open. His brother was staring at the shattered glass.

Cas was strong. He wasn't supposed to just _give up_. Cas was supposed to be strong. When had Cas given up?

His thoughts ran on a loop.

"Dean," Sam shouted, breaking the trance. He had that kicked puppy face on that made Dean want rip his hair out. "What do we do?"

"I don't know, Sammy."

"He's worse than we thought."

"Yeah," Dean said blandly. He was out of his depth. Feelings wasn't his thing, and if Sam didn't know what to do, Dean sure as hell didn't either.

"I need to go talk to him," Sam declared as he stood.

"Sammy," Dean sighed, "give him some space. We both know he doesn't like to be under the spotlight."

He swallowed, and sat back down. "We can't ignore this though."

"I know."

"This is serious."

"I _know_."

They both watched the coffee drip onto the floor.


	7. 7

The next morning, the Winchesters found a mug with flowers on it sitting on the counter. It had a little red bow on it.

Neither of them had spoken to Cas since his outburst, but they both automatically knew this way his way of apologizing. Again. Even though he didn't _need_ to apologize.

Sam huffed out a sad sigh when he picked it up. "We should go talk to him."

"He's not going to say anything."

"We should still try. I know he's quiet, but he's too quiet. We need to make him feel welcomed."

"I do feel welcomed."

Both Sam and Dean jumped. "God, we need to put a damn bell on you."

He made a point to stay silent as the Winchesters inspected him while he poured his coffee.

"Cas, we really need to talk about some things," Dean said, is voice so calm and open it even surprised himself.

He sighed, and they all sat down at the table. "Go ahead," he mumbled.

"Well, for starters, if you _ever_ feel like-like hurting yourself, come talk to us. Or just be by us."

Cas actually rolled his eyes. "Yes. I know."

"Are you sure," Dean snapped.

He narrowed his eyes at Dean. "Yes."

Cas paused, opening and closing his mouth a few times. The brothers patiently waited for him to continue. "But," he started slowly, "if we 'talk' about this, I expect it to be civil. And not get snapped or yelled at for everything I say."

A flush of anger washed over Dean. "I wasn't-"

"Dean, he's right. If you can't listen, leave."

He steeled his face and swallowed his comment. Sam was right, Cas needed him, and he was only making things worse. 

"And a suicide attempt is _serious_ , Cas. I feel like you're not getting that," Sam continued.

"It wasn't a-," he huffed a breath of frustration, "a suicide attempt."

The brothers cast a worried glance at each other. If Cas couldn't even admit that he wasn't okay, how were they supposed to help him?

"Then what was it," Dean asked.

Cas flicked his eyes at him, then back to his cup. "Penance."

"I knew that if I died as a human," he continued stoically, "I would go to hell."

"Cas, do you realize it's _not normal_ to feel like that," Dean said as he fought to keep his voice level.

"We aren't exactly normal, are we," he defended.

Dean leaned forward. "Look, man, I know you feel bad about the angels falling, but that wasn't your fault. And you _don't_ deserve to go to Hell. Your the only one that gets the blame, even thought it was all Metatron."

He started chuckling. Honest to God chuckling. Sam and Dean looked at each other, somewhat scared. Neither of them had seen Cas laugh. _Ever._

Dean felt like he was losing his best friend even though he was sitting right in front of him.

"Um, Cas," Sam interrupted. Cas took a deep breath, and wiped his eyes.

"I don't think you two understand. I almost single handedly made my own kind _extinct_. Between being God, and the fall, I have _thousands_ of my _siblings_ blood on my hands," he said.

"They have been in my head, trying to fix me, for over a millennia, because I _never_ worked right. I'm the spanner in the works. I'm- I'm _Lucifer_ to them. They call me that, Lucifer. And the worst part, they're not wrong."

Cas finally started to slow down. "Heaven was all I knew, and now it's all gone. And it's my fault. So, yes, I suppose I feel bad."

Dean moved first. He slid onto the bench, next to Cas, and simply wrapped his arms around him. He could see the tears threatening to fall. "Dean you don't have to-"

"Cas?"

"...yes?"

"Shut up."

Sam sat on the other side, and did the same. Both of them could feel Cas shaking, and they knew he finally let go. His head hung low, and the only noise he made was quiet sniffles.

Dean rested his chin on the top of his head. "That's it. Just let it go. It's okay, just let it go," he whispered. Sam couldn't help the tears falling from his own eyes at the same words his brother had said to him when he was in the same state of mind. He rested his head on Cas' shoulder and rubbed his back.

"Just let it go, Cas. Just let it go."


	8. Finish

Castiel had bad days. He wouldn't come out of his room, he wouldn't eat, he wouldn't talk. On those days, Sam and Dean would sit next to him, either in silence, or just talking at him. They would make sure his blade was no where nearby.

More importantly, Castiel had good days. He would laugh, and join in on the conversations. He would sleep normally at night. He would smile.

On the good and the bad, the Winchesters there. Yes, Castiel fell, but they helped him up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That’s it, feel free to leave constructive criticism :)


End file.
